Hostage Midwife

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Hostage Midwife Page 8

by Intrigue Romance


  Even in her befuddled state, she understood what he was saying. “I think you’re right about that.”

  “I’d like to have you stay with me at my condo. But you could also go to Lauren’s house. She has plenty of room.”

  “I pick you.” That was a no-brainer.

  “Good choice.” After he took the coffee mug from her and placed it on the desktop, he grasped both her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I have an appointment in ten minutes. Either I can arrange for someone to take you to my place or you can come with me. The appointment is with Barry Radcliff.”

  “What? How did you—”

  “He’s the person I called before the Lamaze class. There weren’t any other options. Nobody answers the Trask phone number, and we don’t have an identity for the other guy.”

  Coming face-to-face with Radcliff—a man who had been described as a stone-cold killer—was intimidating, but she was curious about him and his slinky brunette attorney, and she figured nothing bad would happen to her if she was with Nick. “I’ll stick with you.”

  “We should go now. He’ll be waiting for us.”

  “In his limousine office?”

  “Not this time.”

  “Good.” She really hated limos.

  * * *

  ON THE WAY TO THE ELEVATOR, Nick placed his hand on Kelly’s waist. The color had returned to her face, and her eyes were more focused. More than ever, he wanted to protect this woman. Her flash of temper reassured him; she wasn’t completely defenseless. “We’re going to have a nice dinner with Radcliff,” he said.

  “That’s smart. There’s nothing he can do in front of witnesses.”

  “He’s not that kind of thug,” Nick said. “If he meant to do us physical harm, he’d hire an expert. We’ll have dinner, then we’ll go to my place and relax.”

  She pushed a sweep of straight brownish-blond hair off her forehead. “Where are we going to eat?”

  “The restaurant downstairs.”

  “The fancy place? With the ‘haute cuisine’?”

  “Don’t let the tablecloths fool you. They grill a mean rib eye.”

  She stepped away from him. “I’m not dressed to go anyplace classy.”

  “Nobody’s going to give you a hard time. It’s my name on the building.”

  “And you look fine in your tweed jacket and jeans. I’ve been wearing these khakis all day. I’m a giant wrinkle.” She looked down at the satchel she was carrying. “There’s probably something in here that I can change into. At least I can put on fresh lipstick.”

  She darted into the ladies’ room by the elevators.

  “Five minutes,” he called after her.

  He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. Radcliff and his attorney would probably already be seated. Even though the restaurant was Spencer turf, arriving early gave Radcliff a slight edge in claiming the space, and their encounters were all about who was the boss.

  Nick was glad to have another confrontation with Radcliff; it gave him a chance to probe for useful information about his uncle’s death. All day long, he’d been playing the corporate game with Rod Esterhauser and Marian. The results were disappointing. The company accounts were in worse shape than he’d suspected, due to slow housing starts and even slower payouts on completed projects. If Jared didn’t come back with a big, fat contract from the Singapore company that wanted to open a United States branch, they’d have to make drastic cuts and start letting employees go. He’d learned nothing new about Samuel.

  Nobody knew what his uncle had been working on. They regarded him as a loose cannon, incapable of responsible financial decisions, which was fairly ironic because these same corporate people were delighted to point to Samuel’s innovative and brilliant designs when selling Spencer Enterprises. His talent was one of their secret weapons, but they kept him out of their information loop and vice versa.

  If Nick had been in town, the dynamic might have been different. He and Samuel were usually on the same page. The old man might have confided in him.

  The police investigation was equally frustrating. In spite of the left-handed issue, they leaned toward suicide. Nick didn’t agree. The more he thought about his uncle’s death, the more he thought it was murder, an impossible murder.

  Kelly emerged from the bathroom. She’d combed her hair, freshened her makeup and changed into a black leotard and tights that stopped at her ankles. Around her slender waist, she’d tied a long, silky scarf with a swirling pattern of black, gold and purple. On the left side, the fringed hem dipped past her knee. “You look damn good,” he said.

  She pushed back her hair to show dangling silver earrings. “I found these in the bottom of my bag. I was wearing them when I got called to help a woman in labor, stuck them in here and forgot about them. Lucky, huh?”

  “That’s a nice bag of tricks you have there.”

  “I take it with me when I get a call that someone is in labor. My medical stuff is in a different bag, but this one is sometimes more useful—it’s full of bits and pieces that might come in handy, like the leotard and the shoes.” She stuck out her foot so he could see her black cloth Chinese slippers.

  “They’re not bad. I like to see a woman in high heels. From an engineering standpoint, a heel does good things for the female form. But your form doesn’t need any help. I’ll say it again. You look damn good.”

  “Thank you.”

  Downstairs in the restaurant, the host showed them to a secluded table near the back where Radcliff and his attorney were waiting. The former volleyball player cleaned up good in an emerald-green silk blouse with a sparkly necklace and black pencil skirt. Radcliff looked uncomfortable in his suit and necktie, but he was gracious when he greeted Kelly.

  She shook his hand and smiled sweetly. “I thought I saw your limousine earlier today.”

  “Maybe you did,” Radcliff said. “I had business in Valiant.”

  Undeterred, she pushed her point. “It seemed that you were following me. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

  Radcliff nodded to Nick. “She’s sharp, this one.”

  “And persistent,” he said. “Might as well tell her the truth. Then we can move on.”

  The attorney spoke up. “Both statements are true. We had another appointment. When we identified Ms. Evans’s van, we tracked her for a while, hoping she’d meet up with you, Nick, and we could get an update.”

  Radcliff gestured expansively. “Sit. Have some wine.”

  Nick held Kelly’s chair for her. When she glanced up at him, he noticed the slender arch of her throat and the delicate hollow between her collarbones. Being with her was almost enough to make him forget the other reasons for talking to Radcliff—almost, but not entirely. He wanted to know the identity of the person Radcliff met with in Valiant today.

  The Chardonnay was excellent, and Nick ordered another bottle to go with their shrimp appetizer. The restaurant was about half-full, and the atmosphere was low-key and pleasant. The conversation at their table flowed freely. The two women chatted about childbirth and career, a topic that required only an occasional nod from Nick and Radcliff. The only telling point was that Radcliff had five children and hadn’t watched any of them being born. Squeamish? That didn’t sound like the vicious killer Rod Esterhauser described. It occurred to Nick that Rod might be building a wall between him and Radcliff.

  Their main courses were served—steaks for Nick and the attorney, chicken for Kelly and a grilled-veggie salad for Radcliff, who was watching his cholesterol. After a few bites, Nick got down to business. “You mentioned that you wanted to see me. Why not just pick up the phone?”

  “I wanted to be sure you’d take my call.”

  So he threatened Kelly? What kind of messed-up power play was that? “You’ve got my attention. What did you want?”

  “It’s no secret that your business is in financial hot water. I can help. I’ll double the loan for six months. If you default, all the Valiant gold is
mine.”

  “An interesting proposition,” Nick said. One he definitely wouldn’t take. “I have a few questions.”

  “Of course,” said the attorney. Whenever the topic veered toward business, she stepped in. Very smooth.

  “Since my uncle didn’t run the money through the usual channels, no one knows what he did with it. We can’t even verify that he received the cash.”

  “He insisted on a certain type of cashier’s check,” the attorney said. “I must admit that I was surprised. In this day of automatic transfer, the check seemed oddly old-fashioned.”

  “And untraceable,” Nick said. “The money has already been drawn from your account, but there’s no way of knowing what my uncle did with it.”

  That put Nick back to zero. He cut off a piece of rare steak and chewed slowly. Samuel might have hidden the check and never used it. He might have set up a whole new account, a whole new business and spent every penny.

  “Another question,” he said. “How did you meet my uncle?”

  “He contacted me,” Radcliff said. “He showed up at my place of business in Denver.”

  “Where’s that?” Nick asked.

  Before the attorney could stop him, Radcliff answered. “I keep an office on Blake Street, not far from the baseball stadium.”

  “What did my uncle say when he showed up?”

  “He made the million-dollar proposition. Frankly, I was going to turn him down. I didn’t have any reason to believe anything from this tall, goofy old guy.” He paused. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult him, God rest his soul.”

  “Goofy is accurate,” Nick said. “What changed your mind about making the loan?”

  “He brought me here and showed me the gold. I was hooked.”

  “It has that effect.” Nick had only one more question. “You said you came to Valiant for a meeting. Are you in contact with anyone else from Spencer Enterprises?”

  “Sorry, Nick.” This time the attorney was quick to stop her boss from replying. “We can’t divulge our client list for you or anybody else.”

  They finished the meal with Nick promising to consider Radcliff’s offer and to stay in touch. There was hostility between them with the threat of Radcliff taking the Valiant gold if he wasn’t paid back, but their relationship was fairly sanguine.

  Now came the good part of the evening. He’d been looking forward to time alone with Kelly. He tucked her into the passenger seat of his SUV and headed toward his condo. “What did you think of Radcliff?”

  “He seemed old-fashioned in his attitudes and in the way he does business. I’m guessing that he’s older than he looks, maybe in his sixties. He’s smart to have that attorney with him at all times. Did you notice that she wasn’t drinking? The lady stayed 100 percent alert.”

  “Do you think he had anything to do with my uncle’s death?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Radcliff is determined. And he wants that gold.”

  “I didn’t believe him when he said he was following you to send me a message.” Nick had already turned onto the street where his condo complex was located. His place was less than ten minutes away from the Spencer Building. “There’s something else going on with him.”

  “I can’t think of anyone being interested in me, other than for Samuel’s last words.”

  Nick didn’t want to bring this up, especially after her reaction to the blog, but another thought had occurred to him. “There’s something about the timing. Why are these people following you now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Could it have anything to do with your ex-husband?”

  Chapter Ten

  Tuesday, 10:21 p.m.

  The anger and frustration she’d struggled to contain after reading the blog returned with the raging violence of a wildfire, tearing through her and destroying her self-control. She’d been followed. Because of her ex? If that was true, her past was tainting the present situation. Kelly hated to think that her poisonous marriage and divorce would affect anybody but her. She’d been humiliated. She’d been cheated on. And she had to deal with it. Nobody else had to be involved.

  But her ex-husband’s influence spread wide. He was a public figure. He was making a run for a seat in the senate. His campaign ads showed him and his attractive, appropriately dressed new wife and their towheaded toddler, looking like the embodiment of the American dream.

  An angry ex-wife didn’t fit into that picture.

  Nick parked his SUV in a numbered slot facing a landscaped hillside with three-story wood-sided buildings on each side. His condo complex wasn’t the sort of upscale place where she’d expect a top executive to be living, and she was glad that Nick didn’t need to be surrounded by luxury.

  He came around the front of the SUV and opened her door. “My condo is on the third floor of the building on the right.”

  She unfastened her seat belt and stepped out. Through tight lips, she said, “This can’t be about my ex. Trask never mentioned his name. And I don’t think Radcliff gives a damn about him. But the stranger who was following me in Valiant might have been looking for a story about my divorce.”

  “Why wouldn’t he talk to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What was he looking for?”

  “Scandal.” Anger flared inside her. “He must be looking for a story.”

  Nick scanned the parking lot where nothing else was moving. “I didn’t notice anyone following us tonight, but how will it look if you spend the night at my place?”

  “Why would it matter? Neither of us is married. We’re consenting adults.” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Are you ashamed of being involved with someone like me?”

  “God, no.”

  “That was the headline in the blog. Will I have better luck this time? That reporter already turned us into a couple.” She didn’t want to make his life more difficult than it already was. “You should take me somewhere else. A hotel? I can—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, his mouth covered hers and stole her breath away. His firm lips pressed hard, demanding a response, and she gave herself over to their kiss, melting into his strong arms. Overwhelmed by a trembling sensation she hadn’t felt in years, had maybe never truly experienced, she abandoned conscious thought. Every cell in her body yearned for the intense relief that comes with making love. She was desperate, driven by the fire that burned inside her. The night breeze swirled around them, and she was grateful for the cool that soothed those flames.

  He ended the kiss but still held her against him. “You’re not going to a hotel.”

  “It might be easier.”

  “I’m not looking for easy. I want someone real.”

  She buried her face against his chest and tightened her embrace. Closer, closer, she wanted to be so close that she was a part of him, and they were joined together. “Take me upstairs.”

  At the front entryway, he used his key to open the outer door. The carpeted foyer had an elevator and a staircase. The layout reminded her of a mountain condo where she and Ted had gone on a skiing vacation. Damn Ted Maxwell! Why was she thinking about him? Why wouldn’t her memories of him shrivel up and die?

  As she and Nick climbed the staircase, she paused on a landing to kiss him again. Her tongue plunged into his mouth. He tasted sweet and hot and slick. Her passion overwhelmed her regrets. Her needs were fierce and demanding. With Nick, she wasn’t making a mistake. Her luck had changed for the better.

  Unaware of anything but him, she ascended the rest of the stairs. By the time he unlocked the door to his condo, she could barely contain her desire. The inferno inside her consumed her thoughts and drove her to the brink.

  As they tumbled into his condo, she was utterly unaware of her surroundings. Nothing existed but her need to make love to Nick. He was her salvation. When she felt his muscular arms holding her, she forgot everything else. She could lose herself in the blue of his eyes. He was the antidote to her memories.

  H
er hands became claws as she tore off his tweed jacket. Her eager fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, and she plucked open one after another.

  He caught her hands and held them, forcing her to slow down, and she moaned. She needed to touch his flesh and feel the beating of his heart against hers. He lightly kissed her forehead. He caressed her shoulders, sending shivers down her spine.

  There was a time for gentleness, and this wasn’t it. She wanted to be ravaged, to forget all the embarrassment and the hurt. The only thing that would quench the burning rage and humiliation inside her was fierce passion. Fight fire with fire. If she didn’t make love to him right now, she would surely explode.

  He whispered her name. “Are you all right?”

  Hell, no, she wasn’t all right. She was nearly insane. “Make love to me, Nick.”

  “You bet I will.” But he took a backward step. “Let me take my time, to make love to you the way you deserve.”

  “Now,” she said hoarsely as she threw her body against his. Her hand slid down his chest and lower until she grasped his rock-hard erection. “I know you want me.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Damn right I do.”

  “You won’t be disappointed.” The one place she and her ex had never experienced difficulty was the bedroom. Maybe that was because he’d been practicing with other women. Her rage burned with a higher flame. “Ted used to say—”

  “Ted?”

  She didn’t want to think of him, but there he was—front and center in her mind, ruining everything. The realization stopped her short. What was she doing? Fighting her anger at Ted by making love to Nick? That was wrong, so very wrong.

  This had to end. She pulled away from Nick, pivoted and ran blindly through the front room of his condo. Frantically looking for escape, she went to the sliding glass doors, threw them open and rushed outside into the moonlight. Her hands gripped the wood railing on the small balcony. Her heart thumped against her rib cage, and she was breathing hard.

 

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